


The Rook and the Raven

by MarxistMouse



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Adult Content, Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, Explicit Language, F/M, Gothic, Reader-Insert, Sexual Tension, Steampunk, Victorian, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-06 15:26:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4227033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarxistMouse/pseuds/MarxistMouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You had been following him for some time now. Him and his bunch of crooks. Sighing deeply as you leant against the chimney, gloved fingertips braced against the brickwork, you made sure you were obscured by the shadows. When did the brotherhood start dispatching assassins as babysitters for fellow brothers? This was never part of the job description.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AvaWhiteRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaWhiteRaven/gifts).



> My first ever fic. Please be kind. Inspired by the Wonderful AvaWhiteRaven, whose work is awesome.
> 
> The first chapter is very short (sorry) just wanted to get a feel for using the site and get something out there.

You had been following him for some time now. Him and his bunch of crooks. Sighing deeply as you leant against the chimney, gloved fingertips braced against the brickwork, you made sure you were obscured by the shadows. When did the brotherhood start dispatching assassins as babysitters for fellow brothers? This was never part of the job description. 

Making sure that the idiot Frye toed the line and didn't compromise the brotherhood with his extra curricular activities. This was a perfect waste of time. And you were pissed off. At your mentor for sending you, at him, over there, for being an utter imbecile. And yourself for being stuck on a fools errand.

And what exactly was he up to now? You had tracked him along the docks all day. Making sure you stayed out of sight, never intervening. He didn't need your help. 

You shrank back further against the building, making sure your dark hood covered your face. He was a few buildings away, perched like an alert cat, amongst his fellow rooks. As he passed his top hat to a lackey, you managed to get your first look at his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The exchange in Devils Acre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Praise be to insomnia, I got this edited last night.
> 
> Inspired by that bloody brilliant E3 cinematic trailer, which I've only watched a few times for research purposes. And it is a lot of scene setting but there's some snark, sass and sexiness coming.
> 
> I hope you like it. Thank you so much for the kudos and comments. Keep them coming. I'm open to suggestions.

He was definitely better looking than you had been expecting. A handsome, strong featured face with several days worth of stubble. The bright early afternoon sun picked out russet and auburn highlights in his dark hair, just before he covered his head with his assassins hood.

Tall and powerfully built with broad shoulders, he unsettled you and you unconsciously reached for the twin knives hidden beneath your dark frock coat. You had a number of small blades concealed on you as well as a revolver. A long range rifle would have been perfect for picking off those Templars below. You cursed the fact that you were without your preferred weapon, an Enfield. Much too conspicuous to carry, it had been stashed with Green for safekeeping.

Whilst watching him crouched on the roof in Devils Acre, you scanned the rest of the environment quickly. Mindful of the fact that the other Frye could be here too. Doing the same as you were; keeping watch over her wayward brother. You could neither see nor feel the presence of another assassin, thankfully. You could do without a confrontation with the highly skilled and respected Evie.

You saw him catch sight of his quarry. A brief frown tilted his lips. You followed his gaze downwards and watched the unfolding scene. An unspoken exchange followed between the well dressed templar and the feral rat like man. And the children from the orphanage were being escorted away. You scowled, the sight making you feel sick to your stomach and sending your fingers itching for your absent rifle.

Who would he go for first? The Templar leader, obviously. The thug could wait. You had been tracking Frye long enough to know the conspicuous kill was precisely his style. You would follow the motley Templar gang to their tavern base and keep an eye on their activities. No doubt Frye would be back to take his retribution on them.

Scaling down the side of the building you dropped onto a cobbled side alley. Darting through the side streets, you found an open window into the pub and climbed in. Following a staircase down you emerged into the main room and walked unselfconciously to the bar.

It was raucous, thick with the cloying odour of sweating, drunken men. Whilst a small part of you loved the smoky darkness of such places and how you could blend in so seamlessly, a larger part hated the smell, the claggy stickiness of the floors and the mindless witterings of the patrons.

You noted 14 or 15 men with the red sashes of the Templars knotted at their waists. 3 or 4 women scantily clad and draped over them. Your eyes traversed the interior, picking out the exits and pockets of light and shadow, making out the dark balcony. You pulled up your collar and leant against the bar. 

Whilst the barman was distracted by a perky pair of tits on the opposite side of the bar, you reached over the bar and grabbed a glass and a bottle of whisky. Pouring yourself a respectable measure, you took yourself off to the darkest corner to await Fryes return. You took a sip of the dark liquid and winced. Harsh and unpleasant. But you expected nothing better here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What else happened at the Thistle and Crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter that follows the storyline of the E3 trailer.
> 
> I'm not 100% satisfied with it but it's as good as I'm going to get it. (Chews fingers)

The barman had started lighting the lamps. You had been nursing the single glass of horse's piss at the corner table for a few hours now, lifting it to your mouth every so often. It hadn't improved with age. But whilst, the patrons had gotten progressively rowdier and drunker as the evening wore on, there still was an undercurrent of malevolent tension cutting through the stagnant atmosphere. It definitely wasn't a loud, raucous, happy sort of drunkenness. As night finally descended on Devils Acre, Frye made his reappearance.

He swaggered in dramatically, throwing both doors open. You had known he was about to burst in long before the doors cracked against the walls. You continued to sip your drink with studied calm as the rest of the pub fell ominously silent.

"Try the bitter. It's actually quite drinkable", he quipped to the room

He swung a chair forward with ease and sat astride it, folding his arms over the back. The metal of the gauntlet winking in the dim light.

"Go on, toast your noble boss. This thief of children……or you could do better"

" …join me. Join the Rooks". Well, the man wasn't understated, you thought, swallowing down a smirk. 

'Nah' scoffed the leader, derisively. You shook your head quietly and picked up the glass, leaving a sticky ring on the table. What a stupid move. You are drunk my friend, and you're taunting an assassin at least twice your size with a murderous glint in his eyes.

You caught a flicker of movement in your peripheral vision. Up on the balcony. Ah, Evie was here too. You watched dispassionately, as chaos descended and the room erupted into a brawl. His fighting style was brutal, utterly brutal. The drunken crooks were completely outmatched and outclassed in every way possible. They were tossed aside with aggressive precision one by one.

You surveyed the carnage left in the wake of Fryes assault. Splintered wood littered the floor. The room was dusty with the fragments of it, making the air inside the Thistle seem darker and heavier.

Things were about to escalate further. The tension in the room was unmistakable. Frye strode over to the templar and pulled him onto his back, kneeling over him. Muscles taut and face fixed he scruffed the man by the collar.

Would you need to intervene? The man cowering on the floor under Frye didn't need to die. He was low level, no true believer in the cause to which he had been recruited. Mercy could be shown. But, equally, Jacob Frye had revealed that he wasn't just a petty criminal. He had exposed his skills and his hidden blade to an entire room. You stood from your position in the corner and moved forward silently, a hand going to your revolver. As he pulled his left hand back to make the killing stroke, you hoped to God you wouldn't have to make your presence known.

'Wait Jacob…… Mr Frye. We can split the money". A voice pleaded from the interior. More conciliatory phrases were uttered in a panicked ramble. In response, Frye stuffed a wodge of notes into the prone mans mouth.

As he stood, you felt his eyes connect briefly with yours. Shit. He had seen you. He hadn't been expecting an unknown assassin here and the brief flitting expressions of shock and confusion made your heart judder. You deliberately moved your hand off the holster and folded your arms across your chest. You hoped the placating gesture would prevent him from confronting you here.

'Rooks, with me' he growled. The momentum as he turned caused his leather coat to flip in his wake as he strode to the door.

A number of thugs followed Frye out, switching their allegiance, but a few remained who were bewildered, confused, unwilling to change their affiliations. They would have to be taken care of. They couldn't be allowed to talk of what they had just seen to their previous employers. The possibility of repercussions was too great.

You strode forward, broken glass and splintered wood crunching under your heels as you unsheathed the twin knives. The mess had to be cleaned up. 

'Bloody Frye' you muttered under your breath.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make the decision to confront Jacob.

You walked out of the tavern, wiping the blades on a ragged piece of cloth before sheathing them. Sighing quietly and closing your eyes, you rested your back against the cool brickwork of the pub. There had only been 4 men who stayed. And you had dispatched them as quickly and mercifully as you could. By no definition were they innocents and yet they did not need to have died so needlessly.

You opened your eyes and surveyed your surroundings. Night was no kinder to Devils Acre and you had to concede that Frye had a point. The slum was at the heart of London, between the bastions of the church, crown and state. And it was a filthy pit where the lunatics were running the asylum. The fledgling police force wouldn't even come here. Not that you blamed them, the Acre was nothing more than a malodorous swamp with a dense fog rising from it, cloaking everything in a thick haze.

Assured and confident in your own abilities, you allowed yourself to get lost in your thoughts for a moment. But you were still acutely aware of the skulking presence sidling up to you from the left.  
"Well aren't you a pretty little thing, here on your own" the voice rasped, putting an arm up to try and pin you against the wall of the Thistle. You stared coldly into the smallpox scarred face and smelt the acrid stench of his sweat despite the choking smog.

"The Turkish harems are guarded by eunuchs" you mused in a low voice. 

"Mmm, is that right, my lovely?" He emitted another wave of rank smell as he opened his mouth to answer.

"Would you like to be one? How bout I turn you into the first dickless pimp in Devils Acre?" You growled whilst pressing the sharp point of a knife against his inner thigh. Pushing your long coat back, you made sure he got a glimpse of your arsenal of weapons. Mumbling repeated apologies in a monotone, he backtracked almost falling over his own feet in his haste to get away. 

You'd been here long enough. You needed to have a chat with Frye tonight and the prospect of finally talking to the rough brawler face to face was surprisingly exciting. You started to run through the alleys that bisected old Pye Street, and made for the Rooks lair further North.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short bridging chapter after the events of E3.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Jacob at last.

Leaning against the lampost outside the Rooks base, you waited. Completely contrary to what you had thought, you wouldn't have to do anything. The Fryes would come to you. Someone had obviously got a message to Evie and she was perched on atop of the roof opposite you, watchful and alert. 

The street was cast into a hazy yellowish light as gas lamps shone at intervals, creating pockets of soft brightness amidst the gloom. Moving out of the light you sprinted to the reassuring darkness of an archway. Shoving your hands into your pockets of your coat you waited, feeling the cold clammyness of the bricks chill your back.

Frye emerged swaggering from the pub with a few of his Rooks and called his sister down from her post. He had laughed as she flicked her eyes in your direction and told her to go and eat with a playful shove. As she walked into the building she caught your eyes for a fraction of a second and threw you a disdainful look. She probably thought you wanted something entirely different from her brother and you flushed slightly as an image of him flashed through your mind.

You bit the inside of your cheek and silently cursed. Maybe it was a good thing they thought that was what you wanted with him, it was better that they didn't suspect the orders true motivations.

Having bade his friends goodnight, Frye turned slowly to look at you, knowing the dim lamplight picked him out amongst the foggy darkness. You rolled your eyes at his lack of subtlety, not caring if he saw anymore and let him stride over to where you were hiding. His smirk held across the street as you both maintained eye contact and returned his bravado, eyebrow raised and arms folded, braced against the wall.

He stopped a few feet away from you and your eyes scanned over his broad form, relishing the prospect of looking at the muscular brawler at such close range. 

You both stood there, silent and confident, daring each other to make the first move. Your breath visible like the fog that curled around your knees as you waited with affected insouciance.

You could see questions in his eyes as well as amusement and, as they dropped a little lower before flicking back up, interest.

"It's my turn to look at you, I think?" He drawled, breaking the palpable tension. Raising the gloveless hand he brushed your hood back slowly with unexpected gentleness, moving some strands of hair away from your temple. His penetrating gaze then moved downwards, lingering slowly all over your body, knowing you had no need to do the same, as you'd been watching him for long enough. Unflinchingly, you kept your eyes fixed on his face, determined to show you weren't the least concerned about the intense scrutiny.

"Finished?" You asked archly, as his eyes lingered at the top of your corset, letting a smile colour your voice. He narrowed his eyes, seemingly appreciating your boldness. He liked that you'd managed to follow him so closely, undetected till now, not getting in the way. Your cleaning up of his mess in the Thistle pushed itself to the forefront of your mind.

He ran a finger down the edge of your coat, opening it slightly so he could get a better look at what was inside, challenging you with his eyes again. 

"Really? You think I came here for that?" You ducked away and he chuckled quietly.

"A man can hope" he laughed, eyes crinkling a little at the corners. You swallowed nervously, his laugh had surprised you, deep and honest and his face had lit up like a child's. You slowed your pulse down again, blinking as your gaze rested on his pendant and then found the dip between his collarbones at the base of his neck.  
"My turn I think?" You looked up with a wide grin, and copied his earlier action, running a finger down the inside of his coat, close enough now to see the intricate embroidery on his waistcoat. Catching yourself, you looked up again, and looked him in the eye, challenging him.

"I think that's low enough darlin'. Unless you really are after something else" his voice was a low growl, breathed into your ear. You hadn't realised you'd got that close and bit your lip willing your heart rate to lower.

Stubbornly you stood back a little, just enough to look him in the eyes and dropped your gaze to the quickening pulse in his neck that gave him away.

"Nervous?" You teased and he stepped forward, trapping you against the wall. He brought his gauntleted hand up to grab you by your lapel.

"Nope. You?" He was so close you could see the droplets on his eyelashes and fought not to respond. He knew, you supposed, he could probably read you as easily as you could him, he was still smiling a little as he lowered his mouth to yours, your breath mingling. His muscles relaxed as you trailed your fingers slowly down the raised relief of the embroidery you had admired moments before and then froze as he felt the tip of your knife on his gut.

"No." You smiled, before removing it, relieved to have broken the spell. He tilted his head and frowned, slightly confused for a moment and then, removing his hat and bowing dramatically, stepped away. You clenched your fingers into your palm in a vain attempt to bring you back to your senses and to stifle the growing sense of disappointment.

"Stay out of my way." The temperature dropped suddenly as he became more serious.

"I intend to" you replied matching his tone. He nodded and replaced his hat.

"Shame, it's a cold night." He grinned, then winked at you before turning on his heel and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through several different incarnations whilst I struggled to get the feel right.
> 
> Thank you so much, lovely N- (you know who you are) for your input and advice.
> 
> Oh and a little bit of Evie in here too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Green gets in touch

Perched on the rafters of the Victoria station concourse, you scanned the area with a trained eye watching the early commuters as they scurried to God knows where to do God knows what. Though the air up here was thick with smoke and dust from the steam engines you felt much more peaceful away from the crowd as a passive observer. The solitude was perfect, after a fitful night's sleep.

Scowling darkly, you thought of the orders safe house and its uncomfortable bed. The filtering daylight through the window, unsettling motes of dust had roused you much too early. The environment was unfamiliar and you had found yourself jolting awake at every small noise.

The scowl was chased away by a reluctant smile as your thoughts turned back to Frye. Again. Damn the man, invading the time you had set aside for much needed reflection and silence. The sensations of the night before came back in fits and starts, making the heat rush to your face. The grey green eyes, the rough feeling of his stubble. The heat of him and the strong bulky muscles holding you against the wall. The cocky grin. 

You pulled your hood down and began carding your fingers through your messy hair in a vain attempt to get rid of the distracting images. A dark derby which complimented your tailored black waistcoat and trousers replaced the hood, as you ruefully admitted that the traditional assassin guise was probably a bit too conspicuous for the London crowds. Thoughts turning back to Frye, you smothered a mischievous giggle at the urge to steal his ridiculous top hat and hide it somewhere. 

Jumping down gracefully from your lookout, you landed in the eastern corner of the station and filtered into the bustling crowd effortlessly. Fishing out the pasty you had bought earlier in the morning you began to chew as you walked. A slight but firm tug at your cuff brought your attention back to the present. Quirking an eyebrow upwards, you tried to place the urchin who was hanging onto your sleeve, determined not to let go as you strode through the suited travellers. She seemed vaguely familiar and let her lead you to a relatively quiet spot on the platform.

"Mr Green, sends his regards", said the dark haired little imp breathlessly handing over a scrunched up piece of paper. Of course, she was one of Henry Greens messengers. About bloody time. Green was an old friend and he should have gotten in touch days ago.

Breaking the seal with the tip of a knife, you read over it quickly, balled it up and threw it onto the railway tracks. "My thanks, sweetheart" you murmured, pressing a few coins into her hand and watching her face light up at the chink of metal. "Thank you miss. Mr Green says I was to take you to him".

"Alright. Run a distance in front of me. I'll be following".

"Are you going to finish that?" The urchin demanded boldly. Smiling reluctantly, you handed over most of your breakfast and watched her run up the stairs to the street exit with her quarry proudly tucked into a pocket.

Emerging into the bright daylight, you recognised a few petty gang members bearing the templar insignia. Covering the distance with a few strides you caught up with the girl and pulled back from running into their eyeline, ducking behind a coal cart with her pressed into you. "Shit Blighters", You cursed quietly. Had you been alone, you have had no compunctions about taking them out but you weren't about to risk the safety of an innocent child. Stealing a carriage was an option but it was too bold a move. Casting, your eyes around you noted more blighters milling around. Fryes actions against the gang from the Thistle had forced them out into the open. Muttering under your breath, you rapidly tried to work out the fastest, safest route out of the borough, "Stupid, bloody idiot" All the Templars in London would be on alert now.

"Come here", you murmured to the girl, hooking her arms around your neck and lifting her to your hip "I hope you're not scared of heights". Aiming your gauntlet upwards, you fired a line and shot up to the roof. The speed of the leap sent your heart flying into your throat as you landed on the tiled eaves and employed your sixth sense to map the area. The Blighters were well prepared, as well as the large number on the ground there were three on the roof of the bakery opposite, 2 to the east and 2 behind, scuppering the chances of a discreet escape over the rooftops. Not forgetting their informants and anyone else in their pay.

"Where do we need to go?" You whispered to the trembling creature tucked into you. "The George Inn. In Southwark, Miss", came a quiet voice from inside the coat. You rolled your eyes in exasperation, couldn't Green have picked a watering hole on this side of the Thames? One that didn't need you to pick your way across Templar territory with a small child. After you had finished killing Frye for being an irritating, if mildly attractive, nuisance you were going to start on Green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to update sooner but real life got in the way *kicks real life in the nuts*  
> But the chapters should be uploaded more regularly now, provided real life behaves itself *kicks real life whilst it's writhing on the floor*
> 
> Thank you so much for your kudos, hits and comments. Please keep commenting, I love outside input.
> 
> And thank you AquilaTempestas for your hat stealing fic.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escaping from Victoria

Where the hell had your brain gone? You smoothed out the tense line of your eyebrows with a gloved finger. The Pimlico line ran from Victoria to Battersea. You had to head back to the station.

"It's alright. We're going to climb down now", you said quietly, sliding down the other side of the slate roof and landing on the cobbled street. Setting the urchin down, you pulled your hat forward a shade and pulled up the collar of your coat. "We're going back to the station. Keep close to me". Squaring your shoulders, you navigated the traffic confidently, avoiding making direct eye contact with Blighters that were lurking by the hansom cab ranks at the front of the station. It would be fine, you thought to yourself, as far as they know there are no other assassins here. They're looking for the Fryes.

As you passed through the brick archway of the station entrance, you exhaled quietly, relieved to have made it through without difficulty, and started to cut across the concourse towards the benches.

"Oi, you! You look familiar. Have I seen you before?" Damn it, you had hoped to have made it onto the platform without interruptions.

"Hide behind the pillar, over there. Go. Now". You ordered in a low voice, pulling the girl behind your legs. Turning to face your accoster with your eyes modestly lowered, "I think you're mistaken, I just have that kind of face" you responded with a breathy giggle. He was a hard faced, sallow looking individual with a tobacco stained moustache, bearing all the insignias and sashes of the Blighters. As well as a 6 shot revolver in his left coat pocket.

"if you'll excuse me…"

"You hang on". He growled, grabbing your gauntleted arm. Scowling as he felt brass through your coat sleeve, he pushed the dark cuff upwards and caught sight of your hidden blade. "Assassin" he hissed, face contorting with fury as he fumbled for his revolver "fucking assassin". 

Giving a devilish smirk, you swiped his ankles out from under him and forced him down onto the bench. As he fell, you unsheathed the blade and plunged it into the back of his neck, passing through the muscle with ease. Sitting down next to him, you began to rifle his pockets. Oh, how fortunate, tickets across the river and a bit of cash. That would defray your expenses for a while. 

"Johnny? What the hell-?" The moustached man had not been alone. Meeting the eyes of his companion, you pulled his arm with a sharp tug causing him to land next to his friend and you sank the knife into his gut with a quick twist. You left the two men slumped next to each other on the bench.

Walking towards the platform you adjusted your sleeves to hide your blade and strolled over to the pillar. "Lets go. Follow me". Platform 4, perfect the train was already there. Waving your pilfered tickets under the conductors nose, you followed his eyeline to the two recumbent figures on the bench. "Oh it's shameful isn't it? Public drunkenness at this hour of the day". 

Pushing the girl in front of you, you climbed into the third class car of the shining green behemoth. You lowered yourself into one of the wooden slatted bench seats on the left, crossing your legs and picking up a discarded newspaper. The little messenger clambered up next to you, and stared out the window with saucer shaped eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos, they all mean such a lot to me. And again to N- for all the writerly advice xxx.
> 
> Please keep commenting
> 
> I had to include a journey on a steam train, I've spent way too many hours at transport museums with small boys not to.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting with Evie Frye and Henry Green. And you're given your next task.

As far as you were aware, the areas south of the river, Southwark, Battersea and Vauxhall were under the control of the London Assassins. If Green was running his operations from here, the place would be safer than Westminster. Looking around, the area was less fraught with danger, calmer and with less latent menace pervading the air.

The George was easy enough to find, the galleried facade was quite distinctive and you walked through the busy parliament bar into the quieter middle bar with the child still clinging to your neck. 

Acknowledging Evie and Green sat at a corner table with a curt nod you set her down on her feet and crouched down next to her. "You were very brave", you whispered "here take this" pushing some coins into her hand, "and this", fishing out the heel of bread you were carrying. There goes lunch too, you thought with a resigned sigh as she scampered off.

The middle bar radiated warmth from the understated decor and dark beams to the smell of baked goods and coffee. Henry had stood up to greet you, and you smiled in spite of your earlier irritation, happy to see a familiar face. "Bhai", you murmured, inhaling spices, returning his affectionate hug. "Couldn't you find anywhere nearer to meet?" 

"I find a putting a river between us and the Templars is best". The tall, handsome Indian man returned in accented English "and you managed to find the place".

You pulled off your frock coat and slung it on the back of a nearby chair. "Miss Frye, a pleasure to meet you at last", proffering a hand, feeling scruffy and unkempt compared to the strikingly beautiful Evie.

"And a pleasure to meet my brothers stalker at last", she returned coolly. In stark contrast to her brothers fiery nature, she was all ice and reserve despite sharing the same dark good looks. Though her feature were softer, her voice a higher, more measured timbre than his growl. Even her clothes were just a feminised version of her siblings. It was as if they were opposite sides of the same coin.

You closed your eyes momentarily, memory flashing back to the arrogant sod, and gave a tight lipped smile. "Oh, yes. Him". Waiting till both the other assassins were seated, you continued. "Every templar in the city is on alert. They know of him. I tried to contain it, but I don't think our activities can be kept quiet any more. We are dangerously close to open warfare".

"How many?" Henry inquired grimly as he poured you a cup of dark coffee.

Taking a sip of the scalding brew, you answered. "The Blighters certainly. I killed two of them in Victoria but the area around the station is swarming with them". 

Evie, stared levelly across the table, slender fingers closing round her cup. "They'll be watching movements in and out of the borough. And Strain?" 

You narrowed your eyes in response to his name and dug your fingers into your left thigh, feeling the long healed, indented scar through the thick dark cotton. The scar he had given you early in your novitiate. "Haven't seen him yet" you muttered through a clenched jaw. "But if bloody Nora's on the offensive, I expect Strain will scurry out of the woodwork". 

Henry piercing dark gaze found your eyes, somehow combining his usual intuitive understanding with decisiveness. "We'll have to find out what Strain knows. He's an unknown quantity".

"Reconnaissance?" Evie quirked an eyebrow at Henry, leaning forward slightly. You were aware this was Evies forte and the half smile on her lips betrayed her keeness for the task ahead.

"Indeed. Both of you can take care of that". Clearly Henry didn't trust you with this alone. You sighed inwardly, he was probably right. "Obviously, Mr Fryes actions have precluded him from this mission".

A small snort of laughter came from your left. You had never considered the master assassin would have a sense of humour. "What of the orders wishes?" You spoke quietly with a sense of foreboding , a lump forming itself in your throat.

"Continue as directed. But I'll arrange for you to report directly to me instead". That suited you down to the ground, dealing with Henry was a better option than relying on the shadowy network of informants. A large wave of relief hit you, as it suddenly dawned that Henry had done so to protect Jacob, effectively stepping between the order and Frye. He had to be aware of the full remit of the orders you had been given. 

"I want answers". Evie stated bluntly. "Why are you following Jacob?"

Exchanging a quick look with Henry, you desperately tried to keep your features blank. Your rapid pulse slowed when he began to speak for the pair of you. "The order feel that he is becoming too difficult to control. Drawing way too much attention to himself and the order".

She sighed with resignation. "I thought that would be the case. I had hoped I'd be able to keep him in check" she added bitterly.

'Which is why we have Mr Fryes babysitter!' Henry broke into laughter earning himself a dirty look.

"Speaking of the devil". You quipped "Where is he? Shouldn't he be here?" 

Rolling her eyes, Evie replied 'he won't be up yet'

"It's almost midday". The statement came out with a degree of irritation. Though knowing the man, you can't admit you were surprised.

"Yes. He likes to think he's nocturnal. After talking to you last night, he decided to drink himself senseless. Well a bit more senseless than usual", Evie deadpanned. Henry snorted into his cup and you hoped he couldn't see the slight embarrassed flush creeping up your neck as you recalled the last encounter with the infuriating assassin. 

You got up with a sigh, pulling your coat from the back of the chair, "I should go find him and give him the good news". Somehow, you doubted that Frye would be elated at the prospect of having a nanny. He had hardly been thrilled at having his footsteps dogged. But the possibility of antagonizing him made you smirk and sent a small thrill zipping down your spine. "It was nice to make your acquaintance at last Evie". 

"Good luck with dragging my brother out of bed" she jested warmly. As Henry stood up, straightening his gold embroidered robes to escort you to the door, a reassuring hand at your lower back. 

"Its good to see you again bhai" you said softly, looking into his face as you adjusted the collar and lapels of the military cut coat. "And thank you". The reason for gratitude was left unspoken. Your former mentor in his quiet unassuming way had made sure you weren't the only thing standing between Jacob Frye and the stringent bureaucracy and latent wrath of the assassin order. At least you weren't alone now, having to face a task that was becoming deeply and alarmingly personal.

"Meet us back at the rooks nest tonight" he murmured in a low voice, opening the leaded glass door for you to walk through. You inclined your head in response before walking out into the chilly sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments, kudos and your patience in waiting for this.
> 
> Real life, other muses and a desire to get it perfect made it late.
> 
> I feel a real affinity for Henry and wanted to get him spot on. At least how I saw him in my mind. As a fellow British Indian, he gets a lot of love from me. Oh and "Bhai" means brother in Punjabi and Hindi.
> 
> Please do keep commenting and I'll try to be better in updating.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get Jacob out of bed……

As you came in through the open window, part of you regretted offering to work with Jacob Frye. The earlier fizz of anticipation had been replaced by foreboding and a nagging feeling in your chest. Babysitting, you frowned at Henry's apt description. What on Earth were you thinking? You were undeniably attracted and had idiotically just put yourself in a position where you'd be in close proximity to him. And obviously with his impulsive, volatile nature he couldn't be relied on to control himself. Sighing quietly, you wondered just how drunk he had gotten after your meeting. 

If the smell was anything to go by, paralytic would be a fair estimate. The room reeked of the sweetish smell of beer and whisky which when combined with the darkness and heat of the day made the air feel close and heavy. The floor was in complete disarray, with a path of clothes strewn carelessly between the door and the bed. Your face coloured slightly as you thought of him getting undressed and the cold, rational assassin part of you took a further flying leap out of the window as you caught sight of him in bed.

He was lying on his front tangled up in the bedsheets with a stubbled cheek resting on his arm. As you ran your eyes over his tanned back and shoulders your mouth went dry . The contours of muscle tapered down to his slim waist and a well formed arse. Dark hair sticking up in a way that made you itch to run your fingers through it. Swallowing down your feelings you turned away abruptly and ripped the curtains open.

"Evie! Fuck off and turn off that bloody light", grunted the inert form, breaking your reverie as it brought up a long fingered hand to shield his eyes.

"That's the sun, Frye" you said wryly, biting your lip in an effort to stop your laughter. You threw his coat off a chair so you could sit down.

"Turn. It. Off." He muttered pushing himself up on his forearms. His hair fell forward messily as he tried to regain his bearings.

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ. It's you" his face flushed as he finally realised who it was in his room and he self consciously ran his fingers through his hair in an unsuccessful attempt to tame it. "I thought I told you to stay out of my business?" 

"You conduct a lot of business from your bedroom?" A laugh crept into your accusing question in spite of your attempt to remain serious.

"A surprising amount, love. Now unless you've brought breakfast…"

-'lunch' you cut in, earning yourself an irritated look.

"Or you plan on joining me, then piss off"

"That's an attractive proposition, Frye. But I'm here to get you out of bed. Not join you in it". Crossing your legs, you tried to affect nonchalance and casualness.

"Mmm. I know which I'd prefer. But as that's not on offer here…"  
He turned away so he could lie down facing away from the offensive light.

"Frye!" You said sharply, annoyance colouring your voice. Walking back into his line of sight. "As this is apparently where you conduct your business, let's talk business". 

The grey green eyes scowled and he muttered something completely unintelligible and you continued, regardless of the dirty look. "You know a templar leader called Strain? Robert Strain?"

"Strain……yeah. He's a cunt". The deep voice came from the mass of sheets and pillows.

Biting your lip to stop laughter at the succinct expletive laden description, you carried on.  
"Henry Green wants him checked out" you replied, sitting down on the bed with a creak.

"Right……yeah. Sounds like your kind of thing. Sneaking around. What do you need me for?" . 

"God knows. But I assume you must have some uses". The second it was out of your mouth, your face coloured slightly at the obvious innuendo. You looked away firmly, trying to find something else to focus on. 

"Plenty…" he laughed loudly, pushing himself up onto his forearms. "An interesting and varied number of uses". 

"And the order consider you a liability. They want you watched". You had to cut him off before he launched into a description of his uses.

The raucous laugh was muffled by the pillows "you and the order are going to be bloody bored. I'm spending the rest of today asleep". 

The bright light that streamed through the intermittent cracks in the curtains bounced off the brass fixtures of your gauntlet, casting dancing spots onto the wall opposite. You walked over to the other side of Fryes bed and began to twist and angle your wrist, reflecting the light into his screwed up eyes. 

'For the love of God, you devious little……' the volley of expletives coming out of him made you laugh as he sprung out of bed like a scalded cat 'I'm gonna bloody kill you'

'Only if you can catch me Frye. And it's not as if you're armed'. You looked him up and down slowly, smirking as you caught his angry narrowed eyes. 

Running lightly you made it as far as the window before a strong forearm round your waist winded you and pulled you back. Hooking a leg round yours he pulled you backwards on top of him, to land on the bed , which creaked dangerously under the impact of your combined weight.

'You barely tried there, love' the deep voiced hummed in your ear, making your stomach muscles clench. 'I think you wanted to be caught'. His arms held you down tightly, whilst his mouth and nose barely nuzzled the delicate area between your neck and ear. You arched your back longingly against his hard torso and closed your eyes, throwing your head back. "I'm not here for that" you sighed, abandoning all attempts at self restraint you willed him to move his hands lower and to press his lips against your neck.

"Stalking strain, you don't need me for that. So what exactly are you doing here?" The voice was a low purr in your ear and you could feel the distinct bass rumble from inside his chest.

"Remind you of your commitment to the order and its tenets". Your hand tried to pry his forearm away.

"I remember them. Don't get caught, don't kill the wrong people". You had to laugh at his loose interpretation of the rules that were supposed to guide you both

"……hide in plain sight. Never compromise the brotherhood." You gasped, acutely aware of what his fingers were trying to do.

"Boss? Boss?" A hoarse voice came from the other side of the door accompanied by loud knocking.

'Fuck' Frye swore at the unwelcome sound as you chuckled lightly with your face pressed into his neck, inhaling his warm scent. 'I'll wait outside' you murmured, finally managing to extract yourself from his tight grip "I can brief you about Henrys plans there". Thankful for the interruption that brought you back to your senses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was spurred on to get this out by the new syndicate trailer and a request to set up a joint venture with a friend *hugs N*. I'm feeling the creativity and love for writing again.
> 
> I do hope you like and sorry for lateness. I hope the almost smut makes up for how late it is. Xx. I will rework it further
> 
> Above all, thank you for reading and loving this. I can't believe the amount of hits and kudos. *blushes*. Please keep commenting and giving input. *sends out a lot of love*
> 
> Oh and sorry for the swearing but Jacob strikes me as someone with an interesting command of the English language.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to start a working partnership with Jacob, despite his attempts to do the opposite.

10 minutes wasn't enough to get your thoughts back in order and restore some semblance of calm to your warm face. 10 days probably wouldn't have been enough. You rested against the low brick wall across the yard from the Rooks base on your elbows, forearms crossed. A warm hand stroked your lower back and you momentarily leant back into the caress before gripping the muscular wrist tightly and throwing it off. 

"Oh like that is it?" Laughed the deep, resonant voice, as Frye lounged next to you with his back against the wall. You stared back into the handsome smirking face. He had changeable eyes, you mused. You could've sworn they were grey green the other night, but now in the cold light of day they actually seemed to be a warmer brown flecked with green.

"Has to be, Frye" you sighed, before adding "at least for now". He had obviously dressed at speed and looked alluringly unkempt. 

The same hopeful expression of a few nights ago lit up his face, provoking an answering smile from you. "A man can hope". The hand drifted languidly back to your waist.

You sighed resignedly at his persistence and gave the leather clad hand a pointed look before turning to face the same direction he was. "Henry Green wants some reconnaissance done on Robert Strain". A few Rooks had wandered outside and were clearly relishing the prospect of a fight brewing between you and Frye.

"Not my sort of thing, darlin' " he murmured with a roll of his eyes, bringing up the hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Really? I hadn't noticed?" You muttered, knocking the hand away. Despite the sarcasm laden quip, you were actually starting to get annoyed. You were pissed off at yourself and the quite frankly unprofessional way you had behaved earlier. And almost everything about Frye at this present moment was irritating you. "I know you enjoy beating the shit out of people with chairs, but the order frowns upon it". 

"Henry Green and Evie want you partnered with me till the brotherhood decide otherwise. So we will be doing things my way"

"I have to admit, I like the sound of that, love". He licked his lips, aware that you were watching every small movement he was making. 

You raised an eyebrow at his attempt to unsettle you. You weren't about to admit it was working. The husky low voiced baritone and lewd comments were making your stomach clench. Swallowing, you continued "As for this business with Strain. We meet with the London assassins tonight and I intend to follow Henry's plan"

"So………you and Green?" He said wryly.

"What about me and Green?" The irrelevance of the question caused your response to come out with a cutting sharpness.

"Anything I should be worried about?" The affront to your character really rankled and Frye gave an infuriating, patronising smirk, fully aware his needling had hit home and that he had elicited anger from you. 

"Frye, you arrogant tosspot" you murmured, lowering your voice to a whisper and moving towards him. Your cheek brushed his and you could feel the scratch of dark stubble. "If I were you, I'd be more worried that I'll cut off your right hand the next time it goes near my arse".

He threw up his hands and backed away dramatically with his characteristic swagger. "Oh I do beg your pardon, Miss". The dark velvet top hat was in his gauntleted hand as the other seized your right hand and brought it to his lips in a parody of gallantry. Torn between wanting to laugh at him and irritation, your face broke into a reluctant smile.

Several more rooks had turned up, obviously accustomed to ridiculous over the top behaviour from their Boss, grinning at the spectacle he was making of himself. "Oh and another thing." You indicated the yellow sashed individuals milling around with a flick of your eyes. "I like to keep my work subtle, so kindly keep your pets at home". 

His eyes flashed fire momentarily and you smirked at the small victory. 

"I think I need a drink" you smiled sweetly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, our girl and Jacob will be with each other, professionally of course ;) . I do so enjoy writing them snarking at each other.
> 
> Oh and couldn't resist a bit of jealous Jacob in here.
> 
> Thank you for all the comments, kudos and hits.  
> Especially to N as ever, aquila, avawhiteraven, lightning, moonlit and everyone who's listen to me witter away.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding with the Rooks.

"Sorry Miss. But flush beats your three bitches". You had spent most of the late afternoon and evening relaxing in the warm smoke filled bar of the Rooks base and having a surprisingly nice time. They were pretty good company. Loud and brash of course, but nice enough and for now loyal to the London Assassins. You somewhat regretted calling them Fryes pets, it wasn't your most noble moment. Hopefully, actions would speak louder than your occasionally sharp temper and sharper words.

"Shit" you muttered with a reluctant smile, shoving the pile of notes and coins towards the skinny youth. You really weren't playing at your best. "Still, at least you can afford the next round now, Cobb". The Rook blushed under his freckles, squirreling away the cash, as the man to his left began shuffling the cards and the rest of the table broke into raucous laughter.

They had been slow to warm to you, wary and protective of their leader. And naturally suspicious of you, not only as an assassin and potential threat but an interloper to their gang. Fryes second, a moustached man called Turner, was eyeing you at a distance with barely concealed mistrust.

Frye had spent most of the time with his lieutenants. Checking weapons caches and communications. Drilling his recruits. Dispensing orders. Truth be told, doing a lot more work than you had expected. He seemed to bristle with the tension of having to wait and gave off an air of general irritation, causing most of the lower level Rooks to scatter in fear. 

You scanned the cards you had been dealt and threw them back into the centre of the table, instantaneously. A bad hand. Sitting back from the round, you took a sip from the tumbler in your hand as Frye strode over.

After spending the last several days running all over London, you hated to admit it but you were actually exhausted. As you stood up, a wave of tiredness hit and all your muscles felt heavy. "What can I help you with, Frye?" You murmured quietly. The teasing expression disappeared quickly, replaced by one of concern as he led you away from the table. The hand at your elbow felt warm and reassuring and you found yourself leaning towards him slightly.

"So what is it?" You asked, rubbing a hand over your face trying wake yourself up a little.

"Are you tired, love?" The usually sardonic drawl had mellowed into a soft, low tone that was strangely comforting. You quickly scanned his face looking for condescension or scorn but only found a warm, honest look with the faintest hint of a smile around his lips. 

"A bit". You lied. "What do you need?" 

"It can wait". His eyes took in the room as he leant against the dark mahogany bar. The long quilted leather coat was gone, as was the hat, leaving him clad in the green waistcoat and white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Your eyes roved over the muscular forearms idly. They were definitely an appealing sight, tanned, lean and tightly corded with sinew and muscle.

"Any word from Henry yet?" You averted your eyes and stared straight ahead. Henry should have been in touch but you knew him and the nature of his work well enough to know the bureau leader had probably been detained with good reason.

"Nothing so far". He sighed. "Nor from Evie either. And the Templars have gone quiet for now".

You exhaled loudly and rolled your tense shoulders. "You look like you could do with a break. Why don't you play a few rounds?" Indicating the table in the corner with a quirked eyebrow.

"Hmm……I could". The words rolled round his mouth casually.

"I thought you wouldn't be able to resist the chance to show how skilled you are" your voice took on a lighter, flirtatious edge, as you began to walk back to the table.

"Well a gentleman doesn't brag" he said with a self effacing shrug.

"I'm not even going to waste my time contradicting any part of that". You laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the statement.

"If you want to play, I'm not one to refuse a lady". 

"Come on then, and you can inform me of your plans for the rest of Westminster and the City". 

The hazel eyes narrowed and you bit back laughter at the annoyed expression on his face . It had been easy to filter out the background noise and the loud comings and goings of the Rooks to pick out relevant information. His voice was so distinctive and he had made no effort to be discreet at his own base.

"Sneaking has its perks" you said with a smirk.

"Yes that's true. Maybe you'd be able to win this back?" A silver necklace dangled from his long fingers. Your left hand went up to the back of your neck, finding that your locket was missing. Damn him, when did he manage to steal that? You tried to swipe it back but he swung it into a clenched fist and pushed you back with his free hand. The triumphant grin on the stubbled face could only be described as devilish and instead of feeling annoyance at being tricked, a reluctant smile tugged at your lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot apologise enough for the lateness. My oldest boy will be back at preschool in the next few weeks so I'll have a bit more free time to work on this.
> 
> I wanted to show a nicer side to Jacob. I know he's getting a pretty harsh reception from some for being the muscle and being brash and reckless. So I'm hoping to show him in a more positive and balanced light.
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and the comments. Please keep them coming, I'd love to know what people want to see more of.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a bit more affectionate…

Taking your place back at the table , you took the deck of cards and began to shuffle. Jacob lowered himself into a chair on your right.

“So the assassins are gonna show us how it’s done” One of his older lackeys grinned , black teeth outnumbering the gaps, but only just. You raised an eyebrow at the man’s daring and confidence

“Ah, my old friend, always so funny” he laughed, knocking the man’s hat off to the roars of the others. “Especially when you’ve had a few”.

With the assembled eyes on you, You started to cut and riffle the deck, shuffling in an overly showy way with quick, light hands.

“Now where exactly does a lady learn to do tricks like that?” He whispered, low enough for only you to catch the words. He punctuated the statement by stroking a finger along the inside of your wrist.

“Around. The usual places” you smile, shrugging, keeping your answers purposely vague whilst splitting the deck. “Here and there. Can’t have you knowing too much about me. You’ll get bored if you know everything”.

“How long do you plan to stick around for? Just so I know when to start bringing in new entertainment?” you felt you could detect a serious undertone under the offhandedness of the remark.

Your hands falter briefly . “Till the order decides to send me on. So that depends on you, really”. You had almost blocked the inevitability of having to move on from your mind and the realisation came back with a hard, unpleasant jolt. You look up from the cards to look him squarely in the face. The usually mobile, laughing face is stiff and the eyes have a determined, fixed expression. Your heart drops still further as you realise he probably wants you gone. Out of his business. It was to be expected but you weren’t prepared for how much it stung

“Don’t worry. I won’t be here for long. Provided you behave” you add quietly, hoping it’s what he wants to hear. 

“‘E doesn’t need long, love” wheezes black tooth with a wink. “If you catch my meaning”

“Perfectly.” You fake a tense smile at the bawdy innuendo and try to cover your discomfiture with chucking the cards across the table. Thankfully, it’s so dark and smoky in the bar your expressions, or lack of them, is well hidden. Your face colours slightly as you note he is still staring at you, oblivious to the rest of the table and the loud commotion. As if he had been thinking the same as you were.

“It’s true I don’t need a lot of time to raise hell. But in other respects……” Frye starts with a cocky, almost infuriating look on his face. 

“I can imagine” you cut him off mid sentence “but I get the feeling you talk a good game, Frye”. You scan your cards quickly and take a sip of vinegar masquerading as wine with a flinch.

“Excuse me?” The dark eyebrows shot together in confused irritation.

“All talk. I imagine, your men would agree. Is it true that he’s a man of many words, but very little..” You paused and lowered your voice further, smirking as you saw him leaning in a little too.”…action?” there was a shocked pause and then more laughter.

“Come upstairs and I’ll show you action.” he winked theatrically and laughed, raising his cup and crashing it against the his friends’ as they too held theirs up. Wine splashed out of them all, but no one noticed or cared.

“Action? Really?” You looked confused. “Like that mess in Devils Acre?" You set your face to look innocent, and took a sip of the wine, laughter glinting in your eyes as you looked at him over the top of the mug.

He raised an eyebrow and rubbed a hand through his hair and over his face, but shrugged.“It worked didn’t it?”

An unladylike scoff escaped your lips.“Causing a God almighty ruck in a bar, failing to kill all the thugs, and leaving it to me to finish the job? Oh and putting every single templar in london on the offensive. Then yes. It worked. Brilliantly”. You rolled your eyes dramatically and took another sip. It felt really good to vent your frustrations. “I’m surprised you haven’t gotten more people killed along the way”.

He snorted and drank down his own wine, barely wrinkling his nose at the taste as his lackeys took the piss, clapping him hard on the back making him choke a little.

“You’re not dead though, are you? Not yet.” He growled a little, clearly not used to being the butt of anyone’s joke. He swigged his wine. 

“No thanks to you!” You muttered not quite under your breath with a wink.

He smiled again before throwing his hands in the air, "What do I have to do to shut you up?”

“You’d have to kiss me or kill me.” You shrugged nonchalantly, holding his eyes, feeling the blush rise at his expression. Shrugging, he got out his revolver and aimed it at your head, holding it there, both of you holding eye contact, unwilling to back down.

After what seemed like minutes he put it back in it’s holster, still holding your eyes with his and you tried desperately to stop your heart racing.

Looking away from him, you shook your head and gave an arch smile before standing up to leave. You downed the last of the wine and walked away , heading back to the cellar behind the bar to find more. The night definitely needed more fuzziness. The events had too much clarity and focus in your mind and you desperately wanted to block them from your memory.

It was dark and pleasantly cool in the storage room and you took refuge in the solitude despite being able to hear the raucousness of the Rooks carrying on in the background. The flush in your cheeks started to dissipate in the chill.

“Looks like I’m kissing you then doesn’t it?” came a low voice in your ear before a strongly muscled arm wrapped round your waist and spun you round to face him. Suddenly feeling shy, you dropped your eyes down and felt the gauntleted hand tilt your face upwards  
The arm round your waist pulled you closer still, so close you could feel his breath on you skin and the heat from his body, and the scratch of stubble.

“Looks like it” you agreed, forcing yourself to stay still, daring him to do it. His eyes dropped to your mouth briefly and you saw him swallow hard, clearly nervous and it made you smile. You reached a hand around the back of his head and pulled him down to you, noting his grin and grinning back a split second before your lips met and a shock of desire ran through you as you kissed. confident and assured he deepened the kiss and for a split second you gave in, leaning up against his hard body, noting the thud of his heart against you and returned the kiss as freely as it was given. ‘Just a little longer’ you thought, as his tongue slid against yours and spikes of lust ran through you.

“Er, sir? Miss?” A small voice, that seemed a long way off broke through and you both looked round in confusion before snapping back to reality. You saw it was the little messenger girl from the train ride. She looked at you both, nervous and embarrassed, waiting with a mortified, red face.

“One for you, Miss” you took the envelope gently and walked a discreet distance away to open and read it.

“And one for you Mr Jacob”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter makes up for the lateness. It's been very hectic at home, with my oldest boy starting preschool and the new academic year. But I should have more time to write now and will be updating my stories in rotation.
> 
> Thank you so much for the hits and kudos. Do keep the comments coming. I want to know what you guys would like to see more of.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start getting difficult.

Time had run away again. You had lost track how long you had been away for. Perched on the top of the roof, knees up with your chin resting on them and arms wrapped round yourself for comfort and warmth. It was a beautiful view, all of London looked beautiful from here when you didn't have to stand in the depravity and see it at close range. Smell it. Feel the smoke and dirt clinging to your hair and clothes.

You re-read the letter from Tempest repeatedly and felt sick to your stomach. You rested your head on your arms willing the nausea to go away and the dizzying feeling in your head to abate. The letter lay clenched in your tight fist and you debated what to do with it. Burn it, your subconscious screamed. Destroy it completely but it's intent and sentiment could never be erased. Jacob needed to see it but he would never look at you in the same way again. The pain of that realisation felt physical.

The letter was simple enough to decipher. A common code used by members of the order. An unsubtle reminder of how the order viewed Jacobs activities and your decided lack of action.

"If you lie down with dogs, you'll wake up with fleas", the letter began. "But dogs are only as compliant as the master they follow. But they can be trained, persuaded to accept a new master. As is the way with dumb animals". You gave a pained groan, muffled by your arms.

The ambiguous reports you had been feeding the order steadily and bartering for more time weren't enough anymore. You wondered desperately how long you could keep the order away. A few weeks more maybe? You had to at least try. Henry had sworn to help you but he would come under fire from the likes of Jack Tempest and the assassin council too. You weren't willing to expose your oldest friend and mentor to danger. 

Your head reeled and you stroked your temples with a shaking hand, determined to forget what you had just read. "Brought you this", came a husky voice from behind you, breaking through your thoughts. Your coat was carefully draped round your shoulders. He copied the way you were sat, but unsurprisingly took up a lot more room than you. Definitely not built for stealth or being unobtrusive you thought with a slight smile.

"Apparently we're going to get married…" he said, his eyes glinting mischievously over his arms .

You tried to force some lightness into your voice. "So I heard. Are we to elope?" You felt a strong urge to be closer to him and shifted over, tucking your hand into the crook of his arm and resting your cheek against it.

"We could" he smiled. "It'd be nice to leave this hellhole for a bit". Looking up, you saw sincerity and a touch of weariness in his eyes and you gave his arm the barest squeeze. "Closer, please, love" he pulled his arm free and wrapped it around your back, pulling you still nearer to him. Near enough to feel his warmth and you noted his breath catch slightly as you pressed into him, wrapping an arm round his left leg to steady yourself on the tiles.

"Warm enough?" The gauntleted hand rubbed up and down your arm under the draped coat and left heat in its wake. "God, you're bloody shaking!" You weren't even aware of it but the fear and adrenaline you were trying to fight were making you tremble involuntarily. 

"I'm not one of your delicate flowers" you murmured, tightening your grip and resting your cheek against the rough wool of his trousers. Trying to anchor yourself with his solid, reassuring presence.

"No one would say otherwise". He tilted your face towards him and brushed your hair back tenderly. "Now what's in this letter that's got you so shit scared?" The dark eyes were soft and loaded with concern as he scanned your face, looking for anything that might explain the fact you could barely look straight at him and your voice was shaking.

You pressed your fingers into the corners of your eyes before holding the once pristine, now extremely crumpled letter out to him. " I can't keep it from you". Your voice broke with regret.

"Just one thing before you read it. Will you kiss me again?" You no longer cared about the sentimentality and the show of weakness. "You won't think of me in the same way again. And I'd like to have something before that".

He took the letter from your reluctant fingers and tucked it away inside his coat. "I'd like to have a bit more than just a kiss, in that case". He eyebrows were raised in confusion at the out of character behaviour from you. Torn between bemusement and concern. But he complied anyway. You felt inquisitive but gentle fingers trace down your brow and the bridge of your nose. Taking in the softness of your lips they moved down to the line of your neck, causing your pulse to jump and your fingers to tighten their hold. Turning your face towards him you saw him bend down and press his lips gently against yours. You parted yours slightly to let him in and the kiss became deeper and more insistent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I introduced a villain and started making things angsty and tragic. I make no apologies.
> 
> Please enjoy and comment. I'd like to know if you like the dark turn.
> 
> Thank you for the hits and kudos. You guys are awesome. Special thanks to aquila for helping me get the evil out.


End file.
